Turnabout
by Dapper
Summary: Erestor and Sauron have similar interests but quite different agendas. Modern day style AU. Some strong language.


**Turnabout****, ****Sauron/Erestor****, Rating PG-13**

**Title:** Turnabout

**Beta:** none

**Pairing:** Sauron/Erestor

**Rating:** PG-13, mostly for language

**Disclaimer:** Tolkein's. Not mine.

**Warnings: **Modern style AU, strong language

**Author's notes: **Failed miserably in fulfilling the request. I cannot do crazy humour! It just wouldn't happen!

**Request:** Crazy humour. Sauron poking his tongue out and saying, "Nyah,nyah, nyah, nyah." Strong, sarcastic characters. AU.

**Summary:** Erestor and Sauron have similar interests but quite different agendas.

.

* * *

.

The conference hall thrummed with activity. Every corner of the cavernous room was crammed to the gunnels with stands, each one boasting marvellous new technologies and manned by the sort of people it was best to avoid.

If only that were an option.

Erestor flicked his gaze along row J, debating whether he should continue on to row M before lunch as he had planned, or take a break now while he was still in a relatively good mood.

Of course, it never did well to pause in places like this. People tended to get the wrong impression, such as the overly enthusiastic touter at the nearest display who was currently attempting to rouse Erestor's interest in some new sort of high impact explosive. As entertaining as it was to watch the animated blathering about this apparently fabulous product, Erestor didn't have the foggiest what he was talking about. Brisance? Sensitivity? Could explosives even be sensitive?

He was just about to shake his head and walk on when a familiar voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Fascinating," came the murmur, low and ponderous and far too close to Erestor's shoulder for comfort. "I'm going to have to pick up some literature on that."

Erestor whirled on the spot, hoping against hope that it wasn't who he knew it to be. Ah, no such luck. There stood the head of Mount Doom Incorporated, looking as sharp as ever in one of those custom-tailored suits that must have cost a small fortune, a smirk on his lips and a predatory glint in those wolf-like eyes.

After a moment, Erestor offered a polite, if somewhat strained, smile. "Sauron."

"Erestor!" Sauron's smirk widened to reveal a perfect set of teeth. "I never thought I'd meet you here. I don't think I've seen you since Eregion!"

Oh yes, Erestor remembered that debacle all too well. The repercussions from the Eregion Exhibition had rocked the economic world and continued to have long-lasting effects to this day. Mount Doom's chief executive, Morgoth, had been forced to resign over the fiasco, leaving the company on the brink of bankruptcy. It was a telling indictment to Sauron's skills that he had managed to save it at all, never mind forging it into the second largest company in middle-earth. Mount Doom's gross margin was even beginning to rival that of Valar Enterprises.

"Yes, it's been a long time. You're doing well for yourself, I hear?"

"Not bad, not bad. We have a new mission statement now. Did you know?"

"Hmm, that 'one ring' business? Yes, I've heard it," Erestor nodded, before dryly adding, "It rhymes. Was that intentional?"

To Erestor's disappointment, Sauron just laughed. "That's marketing for you. Everything has to be catchy nowadays."

"Indeed. Well, it was good meeting you again but I was just about to head for lunch."

"Lunch? Great idea. Mind if I join you?"

It seemed that Sauron, for all his wiles, couldn't take a hint. Although, considering Sauron's reputation for arrogance, Erestor thought it more likely that he'd simply chosen to ignore it. Regardless, there wasn't much he could do about it if he wanted to remain polite - which he did. He was merely the company secretary for the Rivendell division of Valar Enterprises; a position that afforded him much responsibility but little authority. Pissing off the head of Mount Doom would not be terribly sensible.

A stiff nod on his part brought a despicably self-satisfied gleam to Sauron's eyes.

They did not frequent the cafeteria that Erestor had intended to use. Sauron wouldn't hear of it, not when the venue also hosted a five star restaurant headed by international top chef Gildor Inglorion.

"I've been thinking of outsourcing to the Shire."

The abrupt statement dragged Erestor's attention away from the restaurant's lavish décor. A little too fancy for his tastes but infinitely preferable to meeting Sauron's uncompromising gaze. He shook out his napkin and laid it on his lap while formulating a reply.

"We've used them from time to time. They might not look like much but they have a habit of surprising you. I'm not sure I'd choose to use them on a regular basis, however."

"Needs must. The current climate is hardly favourable."

"We've had to consolidate a lot of our resources too. Many of our most skilled workers have been transferred to head office."

"Valinor?"

"Yes, that's the one."

Sauron hummed knowingly; one would have said sympathetically except that Erestor knew that Sauron was already aware of this information and was undoubtedly pleased by it.

"Excuse me, sirs?" A waiter appeared at their table, an eager if somewhat nervous youth that was clearly new to the job. "Are you ready to make your order?"

Erestor offered the lad a smile, ordering a black coffee and a watercress salad with sesame dressing. Sometimes a little encouragement went a long way and Erestor was rewarded as the delicate features bloomed. The waiter's heart-shaped face broke into a return smile that could have melted the icecaps.

His badge proclaimed him to be one 'Melpomaen.' Erestor committed the name to memory, just in case he ran into the youth later. He allowed himself a naughty little grin as he watched the lithe figure turn and head for kitchens.

"It would seem we share a similar interest," Sauron murmured.

Erestor's grin vanished. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Don't you?" Sauron's smirk grew to cover his face. "I keep birds, you know. Harris hawks. A kestrel, too, though she's more of a pet. The hawks are the hunters. You reminded me of them just then."

"Should I be flattered?"

"Absolutely. They are magnificent beasts. Proud, relentless, graceful… they have a sharp eye for prey. As do you, I see."

Erestor took a sip of water, watching his companion carefully over the rim of the glass. The ever-present smirk quirked up at one corner, briefly transforming into something that was almost, but not quite, a dry smile. The corners of Sauron's hazel eyes crinkled and, for a moment, Erestor saw a question instead of the shrewd judgement that always left him disquieted.

"That's not the word I would have chosen, though I'm not surprised to find you see it that way."

Sauron inclined his head in acknowledgement.

The waiter returned then, serving them with a proficiency marred only by nervous energy and nearly upending Sauron's rum and saffron cake into his lap when those hazel eyes unrepentantly raked him from head to toe. The youth blushed and stammered an apology before fleeing the scene, quick to escape Sauron's amused leer. Erestor huffed and scowled into his coffee.

Sauron just laughed. "Come now, Erestor, I didn't do anything you hadn't already done yourself."

"Not so obviously. Haven't you ever heard of circumspection?"

"No, I find it's a complete waste of time. Take now, for example. Tell me, Erestor, why exactly are we sitting here when we could be enjoying each other's company in a more… private setting?"

Erestor could not immediately reply. He lowered his eyes to his salad to disguise his sudden lack of composure, twirling the long stems of watercress around his fork. The cutlery scraped jarringly against the ceramic plate and Erestor repeated the motion just to watch the uncomfortable expression that flitted across Sauron's face.

Assaulted with that spine-grating sound, Sauron was forced to continue. "You didn't think I wanted to talk about work, surely?"

"It would not have been an unreasonable assumption."

"Now you know better. So what do you say?"

"Surely you cannot expect me to… it would be highly inappropriate… and unprofessional…! My boss would have my head!"

"Pfft. What has Elrond got to do with anything? What he doesn't know won't hurt him, hmm?"

Erestor could only stare, incredulous. Perhaps this was the explanation for Sauron's success; he simply dumbfounded his rivals into gobsmacked compliance.

While Erestor struggled for words, Sauron had taken out his wallet and thrown a few notes onto the table.

"I'm staying in room 122." He spoke as though he was commenting on the weather rather than extending an indecorous invitation. "Perhaps I'll see you again before the convention's over."

He left an inwardly agitated Erestor with much to ponder. The secretary shoved his abruptly unappetising salad away from him and sat back in his chair, deep in thought.

.

* * *

.

To say Erestor was uncomfortable would have been an understatement. He shifted awkwardly, avoiding the disinterested faces of the few people that passed him in the corridor. It wasn't as though any of them knew the reason he was standing outside the door to room 122, debating his current level of sanity.

It was simple curiosity, that's all. Who wouldn't want to know if Sauron was as demanding and proficient in this as he was in everything else? This sort of opportunity didn't come along often and, besides, with the economic climate being what it was, it didn't hurt to… to make connections.

He knocked.

Sauron's impassive expression did not change until Erestor had entered and the door was securely closed behind them. Only then did the pleased smirk reappear.

"Drink," he said. It wasn't a question. Erestor's hand was soon occupied with a rocks glass of what he suspected to be an exceptional single cask. Shrugging, he threw back his head and took his first swallow of fire.

It burned his throat. It pricked at the corner of his eyes.

He liked it.

Sauron poured him another.

The equivalent of four month's salary later, Erestor was more than pleasantly relaxed. By mutual understanding, they did not talk about business or finance or resources. This was not the time or place for such dry topics.

Sauron talked about his birds. There were eight hawks and the kestrel, Nazgul, and he trained with them every chance he got. Predictably, Sauron expected perfection from them just as with every other aspect of his life.

Erestor snorted and called him an authoritarian cock-munching bastard. He was promptly pulled into a whisky-laden and brutal kiss.

"True on all counts," Sauron chuckled, and then proceeded to push Erestor into the corner of the settee. The glasses ended up on the floor, Erestor's slipping from his grasp while Sauron flung his carelessly away. It hit the wall and shattered, spilling its precious contents onto the carpet in an explosion of crystal and gold that went unheeded as the entwined bodies met with similar force.

Sauron descended upon Erestor with such ferocity that a brief flicker of alarm flashed through the secretary's mind. The dark eyes widened and he tried to gasp but his mouth was trapped by hard lips and his arms pinned to a cool, crisp shirt that covered a substantially warmer chest.

One part was true at least; no one could refute that Sauron was demanding. Erestor would have laughed if he had been able. He parted his legs at Sauron's insistence and soon felt the heavy weight of that tall body crushing him until he struggled to draw breath, pulling air through his nose.

Now, as to his proficiency… Erestor bucked and thrashed as manicured hands began to find their way through his clothing… there was really only one way to find out.

.

* * *

.

A persistent flash of artificial light from the floor dragged Erestor from his rest. It was still dark outside. Dawn was likely an hour or two away but Sauron was already awake and in the shower, judging by the sounds coming from the en suite. He probably hadn't slept at all.

The blackberry flashed again, announcing the receipt of a new message.

Erestor glared at the device, mentally cursing it even as he crawled from the bed – the incredibly warm, luxurious bed in which he could have happily stayed for the next week – and snatched it up.

_Won big at the horses,_ the message read. _Thanks for the tip! Drinks at my place next week? Saruman._

Erestor blinked. He hadn't spoken to Saruman in… well, he couldn't really remember, to be honest. A long time, at any rate.

Unless… the blackberry in his hand suddenly became the most fascinating object Erestor had ever seen. This must be Sauron's!

He should have put it down on the spot. He should have forgot he'd ever read that message and confessed his error to Sauron as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom.

Unfortunately, Erestor had never been very good at resisting temptation. That's how he'd ended up here in the first place.

Fourteen messages later, the sound of running water finally lessened to a trickle and then, with a squeak of roughly handled plumbing, subsided altogether. Sauron emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel that hung low on his hips, a sight that immediately demanded attention.

As interesting as the view was, however, Erestor had other things on his mind. He stood slowly and held out the blackberry.

"You're a bastard, Sauron."

"Yes, I know." Sauron grinned, quick to catch on. "Had a good snoop, did you?"

"I thought it was mine!"

"These things happen."

There was something wrong; Sauron was acting far too nonchalant. Erestor frowned, watching carefully as his partner for the night fixed another drink before flopping onto the settee, uncaring of the large wet patch he created in the process. "You are poaching," he accused.

Sauron shrugged. "I simply offered him a good package. It was Saruman's choice to take it."

"You are also the one responsible for that despicable web strategy. Do you know how much trouble that has caused us? No one believes we even have a zero carbon policy anymore!"

"Ah, now, Shelob was a third-party contractor. If you have any issues with her work you should really raise them with Cirith Ungol, not me."

Erestor huffed and turned his back on the ever-present smirk, searching for his trousers. Just wait until Elrond heard about this! He'd have to figure out a way to tell him without revealing exactly how he'd come by the knowledge but that wouldn't be too difficult. For an MD, Elrond could be a bit ditzy.

He was half-dressed before he realised that Sauron had not moved from the settee. He glanced towards him to find mocking hazel eyes waiting. Sauron inclined his head towards the table beside him.

Whereupon sat Erestor's blackberry.

Sauron's smirk grew into a quiet laugh. "Fascinating, isn't it? The things you can learn in such a short space of time."

"You read it?" Erestor had picked it up and accessed the most recent message in moments. It was from Elrond.

_Good News! Fellowship is listed!_

Erestor fought to keep a straight face; he would not give Sauron any more ammunition. There was more at stake now than just his job. This could affect a lot of people's jobs.

"Oh please," Sauron cut into his thoughts, "as if I didn't already know about your piddling little shell company. I can spot a takeover attempt a mile away."

"I don't know what you mean. The Fellowship is just a fundraiser."

"Valar Enterprises does not need a shell to raise funds." Sauron snorted at the very idea. "It doesn't matter. You haven't a hope of succeeding. Who knows, maybe when this is all over you can come and work for me."

Erestor quickly finished dressing. "I think one night was quite enough."

"You're probably right," Sauron nodded agreeably. "I certainly found out everything I wanted to know. Did you?"

Erestor threw a scowl in his direction. "You're a fucking cocky bastard."

Sauron just laughed. "Yes, yes I am. Oh, and Erestor…?"

The secretary paused midway to the door and looked back. Sauron smirked and poked out his tongue.

"Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah."

.

* * *

.


End file.
